Page 105 of Riding the High

“You look like Mr. Stacks,” Mabel says to me, mentioning Jamie Foxx’s character inAnnie.

“Why thank you,” I reply, raising an eyebrow. “Ready to get your hair done then, Annie?”

She giggles as she hands me her hair tie. I carefully braid her hair and ask myself if I’m doing the right thing, showing up unannounced at Edward’s election results party. Ginger never really answered me this morning when I asked if she wanted us there. But when she got to the Masonic Temple at 5:30 p.m., she messaged to say she was already stressed out by her parents. She told me how her mother had started frantically smoothing out her blouse as soon as she arrived, and that her father was having her parade around to every person from the press to tell them how wonderful he is. I knew in that instant that Mabel and I would have to make an appearance. Mabes is excited because she gets to stay out past her bedtime. Plus she gets to wear a fancy dress. My mom has promised me she’ll pick her up when she gets tired so I can stay until the end of the night.

The Masonic Temple is teeming with people when wearrive. There’s security out front and local media trucks line the street leading up to the ornate building. Luckily for me, being the county sheriff means you’re automatically on most guestlists, which means Mabel and I breeze past the door with ease. I’m stopped by multiple people almost the moment we step into the room, and Mabel instantly makes a little friend who she skips off to play with.

I’ve been here for more than ten minutes when I finally see Ginger through the crowd. Her hair is in a knot at the nape of her neck, and she’s wearing a white blouse tucked into a fucking mouth-watering pencil skirt. Her outfit is finished off with a prim little black cardigan sweater and a string of pearls. This is the neatest I’ve ever seen her. Usually, she’s dressed in all things billowy and wavy, but tonight she sort of looks like a hot buttoned-up librarian, and everything about that makes me want to mess her right the fuck up.

I watch her. I have no idea how long for because I’m mesmerized by her grace, her beauty, and her ability to always put everyone else first, even her self-centered father. She’s smiling and talking to the local news anchor when Mabel spots her and runs over. Ginger looks surprised to see her but doesn’t hesitate to pull her in close and snuggle her tight while she continues her conversation, while also looking around. I wonder if it’s me she’s looking for. I can’t hear what they’re saying but I hear her laugh at something Mabel says to the reporter. Just the sound of it makes me smile. It might be the thing I love the most about Ginger. Her ability toalwaysmake me smile no matter the circumstance, no matter where we are, no matter what shit I’m going through.

It’s in this second that I swear to Christ the sky opens up and what feels like lightning crashes down on me. I’m so fucking in love with this woman. In fact, the wordlovedoesn’t even cover it. How can you be only in love with someone who feelslike they’ve been a part of you forever? Like you need them to breathe? Ginger has always been in my heart but it’s taken just two months for her to sink into my bones and every goddamn nook and cranny of my soul.

Just like the sunflowers she’s growing along my back fence with Mabel, you can’t miss her. Her personality is larger than life and she commands the attention of everyone around her—but hell, she’s so beautiful you can’t help but want to breathe her in.

Her eyes finally meet mine from across the room and, when they do, she sighs, tips her head to the side and then smiles at me. It’s like maybe, just maybe, she feels the same way when she looks at me as I do her.

She holds up a finger to me to signal she’ll be over in just a moment as her and Mabel start talking to an older couple. The room that’s filling up by the minute explodes with cheer. It’s eight p.m. and the polls have just closed.

I’m so transfixed by her that I don’t hear Brent Wilson post up beside me. I turn to face him and wonder why he’s wearing such a stupid grin on his face. He folds his arms across his chest, waiting for me to speak.

“How’s your night, Brent?” I grit out through my teeth. The last thing I want to do is make small talk with this fucker.

“It’s going pretty good, Cole. And thatwifeof yours sure looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” he asks with the world’s slyest smile.

I’ve gotten so used to thinking of Ginger as my wife that it takes me a moment to realize that he shouldn’t know this information. When it registers, I feel all the color drain from my face.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I think we both know what I said, Sheriff. You know, I could’ve broken this news earlier while the polls were still open and given good old Edward Danforth a nice little scandal onprimary day.” He takes a moment before pushing on. “But I figured if I showed up and played the doting supporter, he might back me for sheriff when you get the boot.”

I turn to him as rage seeps into my muscles. I flex my fists at my sides to keep from hitting him.

I keep my voice low “The fuck are you threatening to ruin my job? You fucking—”

“Don’t need tothreatento do anything,” He waves me off, all cock and no balls. There are so many people and so much chatter around us, I wonder if anyone would notice if I gave him a knock right in the middle of the crowd.

“You ruinedyourselfwhen you got married drunk at two in the morning in Vegas. And I meanverydrunk, as that beautiful bride of yours hoisted a close-to-empty bottle of champagne over her head like it was the Stanley Cup.”

“Did you have me followed?” I ask, not understanding how he knows any of this. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Gemma all dressed up and talking to the mayor’s receptionist like she wasn’t out sucking lined-up tequila shots off the Horse and Barrel bar last weekend. I instantly get the feeling she’s in on Brent’s little scheme.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ashby, a true love story for the ages,” he says, framing the air like his words are up in lights.

I grind my molars and will myself to remain calm.

“It’s not unheard of to get married,” I snarl, ready to attack.

“Maybe not. But the way I see it, you have two options here, because shoot—at first I just thought this was a drunken mistake, but I have a feeling by the way you were just looking at her that you may in fact love that woman.” He chuckles, and I’ve never wanted to pummel someone more. “Option one,” he continues. “Step down as sheriff and offer your strong backing for me to take over. Save her the shame her father will lay on her and her reputation.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” I say, my jaw so tense I could pop a tendon.

He ignores me as he opens his mouth to speak again. “Or, come clean with the public and hope for the best. You know, I talk to the public every day to ask the residents of this fine town, the ones who are trying their darndest to have confidence in you, what it is they hope doesn’t happen. Do you know what their answer is nine times out of ten?”

I say nothing, so he presses on.

“Another scandal. Even if it’s just the gossipy kind that paints our sheriff as the least bit flighty or irresponsible. Normally this might not be enough to make them lose faith in you. But considering what happened with our predecessor …”

Brent grins at me.

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